


My Heart Black and Blue

by beekeeper



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekeeper/pseuds/beekeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieran has a secret love. Something that used to make him happy but that he hasn't had time for since the rising. That is until he accidently tries sheeps brains in the presence of a certain someone. </p><p>Based loosely around the undead only party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart Black and Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not this is my first ever fic! eek!   
> Sorry for any mistakes

It was no secret that Kieran Walker was an artist. 

Before the rising, ask anyone in the tiny village of Roarton anything about the boy and they would often mention his desire to leave the countryside to take up “that art rubbish” (whilst this was usually said in a disgusted manner, most had a fondness for the quiet boy.). He would often be seen strolling around with charcoal smudged up his face or acrylic paint smeared down his arm. This would usually elicit a tut along with an affectionate smile. 

However since the partially deceased of Roarton had risen from their graves, smiles turned to looks of disgust and horror. People didn’t see the charcoal and the paint in an affectionate way, they saw it as a reminder of the earth that he had been buried within, and the great lengths he had to go to paint himself to look at least passably human again. 

Whilst everyone knew about his art, Kieran had managed to keep one of his great loves hidden. 

Whilst drawing and painting gave him great comfort in both his previous and current lives, there was one thing that had made him feel alive. 

Dancing. 

It started when he and Jem were young, bounding around the room with such energy. Kieran would forget everything for that small moment in time. It would always end in a breathless happiness. 

It had become more secret as he grew older. Something he could do in his room , just for himself. As soon as he put the music on he could feel it in every nerve ending and he just had to start moving to maintain the feeling. 

He didn’t think he was very good at it, but in that isolated moment he didn’t care. In that moment he was free. Forgotten was the constant anxiety he felt, and instead it was replaced by pure joyful content. It almost became in involuntary action when Kieran felt free and untroubled.

He would never have dreamt of doing it in public. 

He was too shy to even go to the majority of parties he was invited to through rick during high school. If he ever rarely took up an invitation, he would much rather sit awkwardly on the outskirts watching rick clumsily jerk to the music rather than draw unwanted attention to himself. 

He already felt self concious enough, he didnt want people laughing at him. 

The only time he had danced in public was at one of his old school dances, where rick had forced him along. Not content with Kieran just happily observing, Rick had sent over one of his female admirers to ask Kieran for a slow-dance. As soon as the awkard shuffle and foot stepping (on her part) was over, he vowed never again. It didn’t help that Rick was loudly snickering the whole time. It might have been different if Rick were his partner. Kieran would have happily jumped at an opportunity for Rick to hold him. To touch him. But it would never happen, and it never did.

Since the rising he hadn’t danced once. He had no reason to. Kieran didnt want to associate something he had once loved the with dire events that had dictated his (second) life. 

He had thought about it. Once. When Rick had finally returned. But it wasn’t long until he had been cruelly stolen from Kieran again. 

It hurt just as much the second time. Even more so because his body wouldn’t let him grieve. He had become a shell of the person he had once been. It was like all the emotion, laughter and hope had left his body along with his heartbeat. Even when he and Jem had had an empty house and she put on all the old songs they used to dance to, Kieran would just sadly smile and leave the room, not wanting to taint his memories. 

The only brightness of his otherwise sad existance was the sudden return of his bdff Amy. Amy with her infectious wide smile and her optimistic view on everything. Despite being the anti-Kieran, they somehow worked together. Amy the beautiful genius who had helped Kieran readjust to his new life (if you could it a life if you werent technically alive). 

She had a way with words that would force Kieran to smile even if he had no reason to. Despite the fact that Amy’s life had been so cruelly taken from her, she showed no regrets in anything she did. She was never one to blend into a crowd, and now she had extra reason not too since she had started refusing to wear cover up. 

She had returned to the village with her new beau, Simon, who Kieran couldn't make his mind up about. He seemed genuine towards Kieran but at the drop of a hat would change back into disciple mode, becoming charismatic and charming, talking about the removal of shame and certain prejudice they all faced. He also couldn’t understand why he would occasionally catch Simon looking at him with such an intensity. Kieran just assumed that Amy had told him about about Kieran’s old life and that he just felt sorry for him. He didn’t have to do it in such an obvious manner though. He wanted to like Simon, if even for Amy’s sake. He had never met anyone like him but he had yet to determine if this was a postivie thing, so for the time being Kieran was attempting to appease his BDFF by trying to find some common ground with Simon. And it would hopefully reduce the likelihood of her pinching Kieran’s cheeks whilst calling him mr grumpypants.

Unfortunately for Kieran part of this effort involved turning up to an ‘undead only’ party being thrown by Simon. Despite being told to ‘come as he was’ during the rising, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave his room without his contacts and cover up. The risk of walking near something reflective was too high, let alone bumping into someone familiar. 

Kieran bounced as he walked, as if he hadn’t yet adjusted to his muscles. He instinctively wrapped his denim jacket round him, almost expecting to sense a chill in the air, as he often used to in the perpetually bitter village. Yet he felt nothing. He sighed and continued the slow trudge to the parties location, bowing his head as he went to avoid letting his cover up trickle down his neck from the rain.

When he arrived at the barn the party was in full swing. Surprisingly most of the turn out had opted to come without cover up. Kieran thought it crazy how quickly the once reserved PSD sufferers of Roarton could have their whole opinion of themselves changed in such a small time by just the words of one man. 

Speak of the devil Kieran noticed Simon sitting by a substantial roaring camp fire just metres away from the entrance to the barn. He was speaking passionately waving his arms around whilst his audience listened enraptured by his words. He looked more ardent than ever, with the fire light emphasising the dark shadows and lines of his face. Kieran smiled, this was the perfect setting for him, sombre yet beautiful, the flames creating the ideal backdrop to his fiery words. Simon was caught up in the moment and it suited him. Even Kieran had to admit that he looked beautiful.

Kieran pressed on into the building, straining his head to look for anyone he recognised. It was amazing what Amy and Simon had done to the place in a matter of hours. Neon lights were spread about the place, encompassing the building and the dancing crowd in a luminous glow, giving some needed colour to the undeads sallow skin.

As if she had been waiting for him, Amy quickly came bustling up to him all smiles and petticoats (any more layers and Kieran suspected the seams of her dress may start to strain). “You made it my beautiful boy, you look moregeous!”. He didn’t feel morgeous. The fluorescent lights made him stand out more than he wanted to. Compared to the eerily beautiful colours the lights made those who had opted to go without cover up they made his mousse laden face even more orange. Amy on the other hand looked breath taking, her ashen skin almost glowing due to the glow sticks hanging off her body. Amy seemed more boisterous than normal. She was over exaggerating every word with extended arms and expressions. If that were possible for her.

She flashed a huge grin and leaned closer to him. “Got something for you. Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise” Kieran obligingly responded by opening his mottled lips slightly. Amy slipped something into his mouth, carefully minding not to get any of his cover up on her fingers . He instinctively wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t taste anything of course, but he could somehow detect the texture, both gritty and mushy at the same time, indicating that it probably was just as well that the sense had left him. “What is it” Kieran responded, he mouth full as he spoke, brow furrowing in confusion. He couldn’t eat, neither could Amy. He was praying this wasn’t some sort of prank to make him sick. He was imagining the stares that he would receive if he had to walk home covered in the black bile that was involuntarily let off instead of vomit. Guaranteed he would bump into Gary. ‘Don’t be mad but it’s a itsy bitsy bit of brains’ Amy giggled. Very funny Kieran muttered whilst swallowing the tasteless sludge. ‘I’m being serious handsome’ Amy said with a winning grin ‘Why do you think everyone here looks so happy? You can thank me later”. With that, she kissed him and let herself be absorbed back into the crowd. Kieran could only stare after her, his eyes widening until the edge of his contacts were glistening in the florescent lights. He glanced nervously around the crowd. Now that Amy had mentioned it everyone did look overtly mellow. He had heard about sheeps brains evoking a stimulating sensation in the dead, but he had thought it was a wind up. Obviously not, else there was a lot of placebo effect happening tonight.

 

Slowly but surely the unbearable loudness of the music and flash of the lights were slowing down. Was this normal? Kieran knew for certain that if he had been alive the pressure of an anxiety attack would be building around his chest. If almost by memory his body started responding, his whole chest felt alight, as if all the nerve endings were picking up the atmosphere around him. He was sure he could feel his broken synapses fizzle with electricity, awakening with the rhythmic pulse that was starting in his chest and descending to his feet. Feel. How long had it been since Kieran had even considered the word feel. He almost felt an extension of the music, feeling it in every fiber in his undead body. The lights were starting to slur in his head, making it feel fuzzy and warm. It was then that his body started swaying, almost involuntarily, as if it had been awoken from a long sleep. 

\----

Simon was just happy to see the increasingly troubled undead look carefree, if only for a brief moment. The circumstances of the Roarton PSD sufferers Simon had got increasingly worse since the arrival of a certain MP. He hated to admit it but it almost worked in Simons favour, as shown by the increasing amount of people turning up to the bungalow, wanting to listen to his beautiful promises of what could be. 

He had never trusted the living, in this life or his last. The ULA were the only people who understood him, and could even give an explanation as to why he felt that way. Simon had finally found a family to which he belonged, instead of feeling like he had been wired the wrong way, questioning every thought and notion, as he did in his old life. Simon’s innate feelings had helped him rise up the ranks of the commune, eventually even becoming a disciple of the undead prophet. He had never felt prouder. His entire first life Simon felt alone, even when surrounded by people. He had turned to drugs to numb his body enough to feel like he still deserved a place on this planet. It had almost worked, but then started he needing more and more to lose his thoughts, until finally it became permanent. The second rising was a new start for Simon. His life finally had meaning. Especially now he was given the task of finding the first risen amongst the Roarton Risers.

The term had started as an oxymoron for Simon. He couldn’t understand how anything special could rise from the backward village with the everlasting greyness, prejudice and drizzle. That was before he met Kieran. Sure Amy had talked non-stop about him back at the commune, but Simon wouldn’t pay much attention apart from a polite smile. It wasn’t until he met the boy that Simon could see why Amy could barely cease to stop talking about him. “This you?”. Simon had been uncharacteristically caught off guard when he accidently met Kieran for the first time. Kieran the quiet, stubborn, incredible boy who Simon felt like he had dreamed of knowing his entire life.

He had been sitting outside the barn near the camp fire for what seemed like hours. Whilst he had never been happier to spread the word of the prophet, constructing his careful sentences was exhausting. One wrong word and Simon could loose much needed support. He suspected that if he were alive, he would have a near constant headache.

Amy had told Simon about her plan of bringing sheep’s brains to the party, and Simon had actively encouraged her. He knew intimately about how the chemical rewiring of the body could silence even a persons darkest worries if only for a moment. Plus Amy had mentioned that she hoped it would be just what Kieran needed. Any chance to make the boy smile would be ok with Simon.

He had considered trying the thick grey ooze, but eventually decided against it. He had been addicted to every type of drug in his previous life, something he hoped wouldn’t continue into this one. He wanted to be in complete control of any exchange he had with Kieran. This was so unlike the old Simon who wouldn’t care who he would hurt with his drug addled thoughts and words. Plus he had done some pretty unethical things in the search of his next fix of chemical stimulation, he didn’t want a reminder of the high that caused him such lows. 

Simon fiddled with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. The only acceptable vice that he had continued. It wasn’t like he could taste the nicotine, the routine was more of a psychological calming mechanism, an excuse to have some time to himself. He knew he was currently just doing it to avoid the inevitable. Could the dead feel nervous?

Simon barely even knew the boy but even from the small moments they had shared he felt infatuated. Like his heart would suddenly forget it didn’t work and would start thumping in chest. He felt that Kieran was special in some way. Too special for him, but he didn’t want to mess things up before they had even began. 

It wasn’t long before Simon spotted him. He looked bewitchingly beautiful, swaying in time with the music, with a small smile playing on his lips. He had his eyes closed, but the most content look upon his face, as if he felt the safest he had ever been. His hair shone like the light from the fire outside, sweeping across his face as he gracefully moved. If anything, Kieran looked smaller than Simon remember, his denim jacket swamping him. Simon just wanted to envelop his small frame with his arms and never let go.  
Something caught in his throat and made his pause. How would anyone that pure and perfect want anyone as broken and tarnished as him. Before he could stop himself Simon found himself calling out to him, the name rolling out in his thick Irish accent.

Kieran hadn’t even registered the words that had left Simon’s lips, too caught up in his own moment. 

Simon sighed, shoulders juddering emphasised by his loose fitting jumper. He knew that eventually all drug related euphoria evolved into a diminished anxiety and a reduction of inhibitions before it eventually and regrettably wore of. He knew the best way to interact with Kieran. Plus from what he had heard, sheeps brains had a powerful effect but for a short period, meaning he had no time to contemplate what he was about to do.

Simon quickly pushed passed the crowd making his way towards the beautiful light at the centre.

\-----

Even though Kieran had shut his eyes he could still see the neon flashing as if they were inside his head, the rhythm of the music was still pumping round him like it had reawakened his blood vessels. He felt a presence snake around his small frame. He would almost call it warmth if he was one hundred percent he could remember what that felt like.

Nearly immediately everything slowed down. 

The lights inside Kierans head turned to a calming bluish grey and he swore his arms were tingling as if they had goosebumps. The rhythm inside of him became serene and tranquil. Everything felt softer, the vibrant loudness of the previous feelings fading into a distant memory. Kieran raised his head, wanting to drown in the safe warmness he felt. 

The presence behind him was imitating his movement, causing his swaying to feel automatic and unconscious. He felt a pressure on his chest like he was being pulled closer to something and then a welcomed coolness pressed to his neck. Soft careful kisses were being trailed up his neck, each one causing him to tremble with anticipation for the next one. Kieran looked down seeing that two arms now encompassed his frame. He recognised the jumper. It was hard not to recognise the lumpy thing. He turned round and found himself staring straight into a pair of welcomed intense eyes. Kieran lent closer and kissed Simon hard, crushing his body into him. Simons strong hands automatically reached for Kierans face, caressing his cheek. Kieran grasped the back of Simons jumper, his slender fingers creating balls in the wool, wanting, needing, to be closer.

To Simon, this was better than any drug he had ever experienced. He could taste Kierans sweetness, his desire, his comfort. His fingers traced down Kierans neck, until he was exploring what felt like Kierans infitie layers of clothes. Simon rested his hand on Kierans bare back, barely touching the cool, soft skin as if it were too deliciate to be in his possession. Kieran shivered, pressing himself into Simons body, wanting the remaining distance to disappear.  
Every kiss gained in sensitivity, in urgency, in intensity.

\--

Through the empty gap that was the window, Kieran could see the sun rise, basking the hills in a warm glow. He had spent the whole of the night and early morning with Simon, but it felt like no time at all. He turned to face the overpowering eyes “I have to go. I don’t want my parents to worry, last time i was out all night it didnt exactly end so well”. Simon gave him one last drawn out kiss and released Kieran from his embrace, pecking his cheek with his cool lips as he did so. Kieran picked at Simons sleeve obviously deep in thought, he looked deep into Simons eyes beaming a smile Simon had never thought he would be able to cause. “Until next time Kieran Walker’, he smiled as he watched the unassuming magical boy leave the barn. 

\--

Kieran made his way home. 

Dancing all the way.


End file.
